Colors, sounds and fairytails
by Inky Finger Prints
Summary: Claire is the middle child, always put last. When her father becomes violent, and her family struggles to put meals on the table, how will her daily life be? Won't finish!


My little sister Claire and I were playing at the park, with our brother Cameron. Cam is older than me, and I'm older than Claire. Our mother watched from a distance, sitting on a bench with half sun and half shade, for whenever she feels cold or hot. The wind blew my sunhat off of my curly blond head and I chased after it, constantly tripping over tree roots as it went towards the woods. Cam tackled my hat, succeeding on the capture of the flying animal, but getting his Sunday Best dirty.

Mother came marching over to us and knelt in front of my, placing my hat on my head with a loving smile on her face, then turned over to Cam. "Looks like we have to go home and take a bath." She said, wiping some dirt off of his knees, and frowned as she saw grass stains with the dirt on his pants.

I held Cams hand and smiled at him, saying, "Thanks for grabbing my hat." I squeezed his hand and he squeezed back, letting me know that he said you're welcome. He couldn't talk because he had throat cancer, and lost his voice in the surgery. Dad was really mad that he lost his voice because now there were limits to what he could do for a job, and for life.

Claire held my left hand, and never stopped looking at the sky. She was a talented little girl; she had this problem with her sight. But everyone thought she was very lucky. She saw sound waves, and she saw them in colors. Soft noises were a pink orange color, loud noises were a deep purple, and instruments had different shades of blue, orange, pink, red and purple, as she said when we found out she saw our voices. Claire could play any instrument with a day's practice, figuring out all the notes, and surrounding herself in color. But because of this, she only looked at beautiful things, the sky, flowers, water, and paintings. She looked at mother every now and then, but almost never looked at me.

I was just a normal, plain person. No special talents, and very clumsy, but that didn't stop me from trying. I couldn't sew because I always pinched my fingers, getting blood all over the fabrics, and I couldn't cook because I always burnt or under cooked things. I fell down the stairs at least once a week, and had a bad memory when it came to studying. Mother said it was just because I was young, and that not all seven year olds were good at cooking and studying, and sewing took a lot of practice and patience. She also said wisdom comes with age, but I think wisdom comes with experience…

When we reached the house, mother went straight to the bathroom to fill the tub with water and soap, and then told us to give her our clothes so she could wash them. Claire, Cam and I stepped into the glass like tub, and I stubbed my toe on its lion looking foot. I cringed as it hit the water, because it was an open cut and the soap was cleansing the wound. _Great…_ I thought, _now I'm going to limp for a while…_

When our bath was done, I limped to Claire's and my room, and stepped into summer PJ's, then I wrapped my toe up. When I was done, I heard a noisy truck pull up into the drive way, and the front door opening and closing with a bit of an _umph_. Dad must have had a bit of a bad day at work. I looked out to the sunset and saw a big lump in the back of dad's truck with a blanket covering the large object. _Oh…_ I thought, _he must be excited then… _I went into the living room and saw mom trying to figure out how to turn on the big LCD TV with all the remotes. I helped her out, turning off the DVD player she turned on and the Xbox 360 as well.

Dad was on the couch, talking to someone on the phone. When he finally hung up, he called Claire and Cam into the living room. "You'll never guess what I got today." He smiled at us. "It's in my truck. Follow me."

When we got to the bulky object in the back of his truck, dad pulled the cover off of it and under the gray sheet was a desk. A very ugly desk. It was yellow and a baby blue, trimmed with green. _It looks like a giant baby ate its crayons and pooped it out…_ I thought. Mama would've wacked the back of my head if I said that out loud. But the thought must have been on my face because she wacked my head.

"It's a little old and dirty, but you kids can fix it up right?" We kids looked nervously at each other but nodded anyway. Dad and Cam pulled the desk out of the trucked and brought it inside, and downstairs where the den was.

"Hey dad, do you think it's a good idea to put the desk in an almost noisy room?" After all, it was for studying.

"For now it has to stay here until we find a place for it." He rubbed his head. "But you're right. Let's move it into the basement." The basement was very well built and warm, unlike most. The attic was where we kept our extra things. As Cam and dad were picking it up, I limped behind dad, leading the way. But I tripped on my wrap that held my toe, and dad tripped on me. The desk luckily fell to the side, but it lost a leg. "Damn it Karin!" He yelled, not even checking to make sure I was alright.

"Sorry dad… I didn't mean-"

"Cam can you go grab my took box? I have to fix the leg." I hung my head, and limped up the stairs, weary of the wrap that flung every which way as I stepped forward.

When I got into the living room, I tried to rewrap my toe, but my shaky hands couldn't follow my orders. I gave up and checked my palms and knees, making sure I wasn't bleeding. I just had bruises, but it looked like I was beaten. _Now I have to be careful of what I wear…_ I thought.

I felt a tilt in the couch, signaling someone sitting next to me. I looked up and saw Cam, smiling down at me. He patted my head, and signed 'it's ok. Relax.' I nodded, and gave him a hug. Cam bent down and saw how I wrapped my toe. He fixed it by wrapping my whole foot, making it look like I was wearing a big sock.

"Thanks." I wiped my tears with my arm, and gave him another hug. Cam gave me thumbs up, and held out a hand to help me up. Cam was three years older than me, making him ten years old and he was like a prince to me, always kind and thinking of a way to help me out.

Dad came up stairs and said, "The desk is wobbly now, but you can still write on it. Just make sure that book stays underneath it."

_Book? What Book?_ I went down the stairs with caution and saw my favorite fairy tale book under the dirty leg of the desk. My face became beat red with anger, and I marched up stairs. "Dad, that's my favorite book! Can't you use another one?"

"It's the only one that's perfect."

"But dad!"

"No buts. No go get cleaned up for dinner."

"But-!"

"No buts!"

"Dad!" My eyes welled up with tears.

"Celia Rose Marie!" I backed up at his voice. Claire's eyes widened as she stepped into the room and saw the big burst of color. "Go to your room this instant!"

"But!"

"Now!"

I ran and tripped into my room, and cried my eyes out into my pillow, going without dinner for the night.

Claire walked in and sat next to me and rubbed my back. "You can read my books if you want." She whispered.

"Thanks, but your books are for older kids… in eighth grade…" I wished I was as smart as my younger sister, man I was so jealous of my siblings! I turned my back to her and fell asleep.

The next morning dad got a phone call and he started yelling and pleading. Most of his words were muffled behind my door.


End file.
